The Shepard
by SirMandokarla
Summary: Shepard is long dead, but heroes leave legacies that can never be forgotten.


"Run, come on! It's happening right now! Hurry up!"

The quarian boy raced ahead, leaving his friend in the dust. Her confusion and human feet slowed her down somewhat as she poured all her effort into catching up. When she finally did, they were halfway across the Presidium, it seemed.

Dodging around trees and over fountains was more her area of expertise, so she finally caught up while desperately trying not to fall into a Hanar pond of some kind.

"What," she called, "is happening?"

The boy spared her an incredulous glance that almost sent him head over heels into a railing, but he pushed off with the ease of long practice and then made up the blunder on the straightaway of the next walkway.

"They're finally doing it! It's official! They've got Urdnot Wrex here and everything!"

The girl's eyes widened, and she poured on speed she didn't know she had. If she missed this moment, she'd never forgive herself, not even when she was old and grey, a million billion years from now.

No time for words, no breath to spare, the two of them weaved and bobbed through a mass of slow sentients with the spry energy of youth, buoyed by boundless enthusiasm.

 _I can't believe it's happening in my lifetime,_ she thought, wanting to squeal in excitement but unwilling to waste the oxygen her lungs were screaming for.

Pulling the boy down a shortcut she'd never shown him, and giving up a few future racing bets in the process, she led him upstairs through maintenance pathways twice as quickly as those stuffy elevators would have. More than once, she bounced herself off a wall just so that she wouldn't have to slow herself down properly to get around a corner.

Her great-grandmother had told her once that she'd had a friend who had seen the last ceremony. It hadn't been much, a quick thing, but the repercussions... Granny M always said she hadn't understood the Shepard until she'd lived through what one could do.

Then they were through the winding passageway, and they dashed a short distance to a balcony for an overseeing view of the Presidium. Other ceremonies were usually held in special areas of the Citadel, or even in the Council's own chamber, but for this, a more humble and more spacious venue was required.

There was nobody else at this balcony. It wasn't somewhere most people could reach, just some little nook the Keepers maintained.

And the view!

They both slammed into the railing, her first, which she unofficially tallied onto her score, and they gazed out at the crowd.

Only a few floors down, it seemed everybody in Citadel space had gathered. Turians, humans, asari, hanar, krogans, batarians, everybody was here. There were doctors and scientists and ambassadors and spectres!

And, up at the front of the entire crowd, one person stood, facing the oldest and most important Krogan in history.

Urdnot Wrex was flanked by the Grand Champion Grunt and two spectres, as well as an entourage of mixed species, the best bodyguards in the galaxy. He was the only person in the galaxy more important than the Council members. Or would be, until the ceremony was over.

An asari knelt before him. The most famous asari in the galaxy.

Krogan were not a verbose lot, but Wrex made the best of his heritage, facing the crowd and the sentient they had all come to honour.

"The name Shepard means, 'hero'," he said, his voice carrying easily over the crowd and across the Presidium. "a saviour of many peoples, a protector and inspiration, a friend to the Krogan people, and even to the Council, whether they like it or not!"

There was an appreciative chuckle from the crowd. As much as the Council had tried to stifle it over the years, it was well known how difficult they had been for Shepard to work with during the Reaping.

"Shepard protects all sentients," yelled the krogan, replacing solemnity with fervor, "from each other, and themselves! Shepard believes in second chances, that fair treatment be given to every sentient, regardless of origin, regardless of species!

"Shepard is independent! Against krogan, against their own race, against the Council, Shepard will fight alone if necessary!

His voice softened somewhat, and, with more fondness than passion, he said, "Shepard is never alone. No sentient can see such heroism and not be inspired."

With his speech done, Urdnot Wrex looked down on the person standing in front of him, and rumbled, barely audible to the crowd, "that is the sort of person you have proven yourself to be."

Without another word, he drew the gun from his back.

It was Shepard's gun.

"Rise, Shepard," the Krogan commanded, "and claim your place in the galaxy."

The asari stood up, and claimed the hero's weapon. A symbolic gesture, but no less monumental for it.

"Today you leave behind your people," Wrex said to her, "today you leave behind your prejudice and your grudges.

"Today, Citadel, you have gained a new Shepard!"

As the asari turned to face the crowd, across the galaxy sentients rejoiced at the naming of the third Shepard, a new hope for the galaxy, another who had proven willing and able to defend them against anything that might be thrown at them.


End file.
